Tall: A Tom Hiddleston One Shot
by opehlia-tagloff
Summary: You meet Tom at an industry cocktail party.


You sat perched on the bar stool, finger tracing the rim of the empty tumbler that minutes ago had held your club soda with lime. It was partially full of ice now. You let out a harsh exhale. This night had not been all you'd hope it would be.

Your "in" to this swanky hotel cocktail party had abandoned you to slip into a bedroom with an up and coming screenwriter for a heated makeout session or more. With the only person you knew here unavailable, you felt invisible and at the same time obviously out of place. You had no place here with these movie people. You're not even sure how she had convinced you to come here.

You sighed again heavily.

Maybe it was time to start drinking.

You signaled the bartender and ordered the strongest drink you could handle.

If you couldn't hook up with an up and coming whomever, you rationalized, you could at least take advantage of the free liquor.

"That's a serious drink," a voice came from your side, and you swivled to see who spoke to you.

Your eyes met a man's chest, clothed in a white dress shirt and dark suit. Your gaze travelled up the line of buttons to his open collar and long trim neck. His face seemed kind, his smile genuine. But there was something about his eyes that made your breath hitch in your chest.

You smiled and tried to play off your sudden uneasiness with a joke, "Well, I've got a serious problem."

"Really?" he replied, "Perhaps I can be of assitance. I am excellent at solving problems. May I join you?"

You guestured toward the empty bar stool. "Of course."

He took the empty seat, still seeming to tower over you from the seated position. He sat with his thighs wide, and with you facing him, you were acutely aware of the fact you were sitting between his legs. The thought made you flush slightly, or maybe it was the strong alcohol.

"What are you drinking, love?" He asked.

You told him and he motioned to the bartender that he would have a drink identical to yours.

He leaned forward, his finger tracing the stubble on his chin.

You couldn't help but track that movement with your eyes.

"So..." he said.

"So." you answered lamely.

"Your problem." he prompted.

"Yes." you tried to focus, but you felt enveloped by his closeness, your small body seated between his long legs. You could smell his cologne and as it wafted around you your head buzzed. You couldn't tell if you were getting drunk of this potent beverage or this delicious man. "My problem. I came here tonight with a friend who's in the industry. Now she's off in a private room screwing some guy and I'm here feeling invisible. I don't know anyone else here."

"I'm Tom Hiddleston." he said abruptly, extending his hand.

You took it and he gave you a firm handshake. You looked at him, confused.

"Now you know someone here. Someone not off screwing in a private room. At this point in time, anyway," he gave you a little wink.

You smiled and giggled. _Was he flirting with you?_

"Darling," he said, taking a hearty gulp of his drink and wincing slightly, "I can tell you one thing, you are most definitely not invisible."

You laughed. "That's easy for you to say. You're head and shoulders above most people here."

He met your eyes, "And that's a bad thing?"

"No," you answered honestly.

He leaned over to you and tipped your face up to his. "I noticed you from all the way over there. I walked all the way over here to find an excuse to talk to you. You're not the least bit invisible."

It was difficult to remember to breathe with your eyes locked, his lips just inches from yours. Your tongue darted out instinctively to wet your lips.

"Shall we get some fresh air, darling?" he asked.

You nodded.

He stood up and offered you his hand. You accepted and hopped down from the barstool. His eyes glanced down your body slowly then back up. He bit his lip.

"Let's go," he said.

He led the way, weaving through the clusters of tipsy Hollywood types. Your head was slightly spinning as well, but you were unsure if you were feeling drunk or if it was the feral arousal this man was inciting.

You watched his long legs stride quickly through the room. You were taking three steps to each of his, just to keep up. When you reached the door, he held it open for you and you felt his eyes on you again as you walked past him.

"Where are we headed?" you asked.

"It's a surprise," he answered, raising an eyebrow.

He walked you to the elevator, and pushed the call button. You waited silently together, watching each other in the reflection of the polished doors.

The doors slid open and he motioned for you to go ahead of him. He stepped in and pressed the button for the top floor. Penthouse.

You half expected him to press his long lean body up against yours and push you up against the wall, but he just leaned up against the opposite corner of the elevator car, watching you with hooded eyes. His legs looking like they went on forever in that damned suit. You tried to look everywhere but at him. But the car was small and your eyes couldn't help but alight on him nervously from time to time, grazing up his legs. Watching him stroke his lower lip thoughtfully as he watched you.

Blessedly, the elevator finally reached the top floor and the two of you exited the car. Tom placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you to the left, to a service door.

You looked at him in confusion.

"I think you'll like this," he said, "come."

He opened the door for you and went ahead of you on the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time.

You walked behind him, hand carefully on the railing. The combination of high heels and booze wasn't doing you an favors on these stairs.

He made it to the top in no time, holding a door open for you to the outside. You walked out and lost your breath. Below you the city was spread out, beautifully lit at night, the metropolitan lights blinking, pulsing and moving about, yet somehow blissfully quiet.

Tom closed the door. "I come up here to think at night whenever I stay here."

"It's lovely," you say.

"I think so," he stands directly behind you, his chest just inches from the back of your head. If you just leaned back a touch, you'd be resting against it.

Just as you were considering it, you heard him move. You turned around to see him settle into one of two chairs. His legs wide and sprawled in front of him.

"Have a seat," he winked.

You walked over to the empty chair.

"You don't like the seat I'm offering?" he patted his thigh gently.

You hesitated for a moment, and in a tipsy"what-the-hell moment", you walked over to him and perched on his lap.

His hand wrapped around your hip and he lay his head back on the chair, exposing his lean neck. He looked up into the inky sky and swallowed. You watched his adam's apple, transfixed.

He began to toy with the hem of your dress, his fingers testing the fabric, then snaking under to caress your thigh with his thumb.

The small movement shot straight to your core, causing you to squirm in his lap. You brushed against his hardening cock. And he lifted his head to look at you. His hand was all the way under your dress now, palming your thigh, his long fingers tracing the hem of your lace panties.

"Tom," you began.

"Yes, darling?" he answered.

"Why did you bring me up here?"

His eyes dropped to your mouth. "To get you alone."

"Why?"

"Honestly?" he asked, licking his lips.

"Yes."

"Because I want to fuck you," you blushed at his bluntness, as you felt heat spread across your face, you also felt it growing much lower. You shifted in his lap again, trying to relieve the growing tension between your thighs.

Tom inhaled sharply as your brushed up against his cock, which was obviously straining against his pants.

His eyes searched yours as he leaned close to your mouth, then pulled back just a bit, maddeningly, causing you to twist your hand in his hair and pull his mouth to hand tightened on your thigh, then moved to your ass, slipping under your panties to grope your ass roughly. He pulled you tight against his lap, raising his hips to grind his cock against your bare thigh, underscoring his stated intention.

Craving more contact with him, you moved to straddle his lap, you dress hitching up almost indecently. Kneeling over him, you yanked his hair hard, pulling his head back to look up at you and pressed your lips against his. He moaned, and your tongue dipped into his mouth to tease him. He gripped your ass tightly, sliding your skirt up to your waist. His hands went to your hips and he pulled your down hard against his cock, grinding against your soaking panties. You bit his lower lip and tugged.

"Fuck." he whispered, testing with his finger to see if you drew blood. Finding none, he swatted you hard on your behind, causing you to buck hard against his cock.

"Oh, you like that, little one?" he murmured with a sly smile. "I'll remember that for later."

His long fingers made short work of the zipper in the back of your dress, pulling it off and tossing it carelessly on the cement. You pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and he sat up straight aiding you in removing it, then throwing it to join your dress on the floor.

Your fingers fumbled with his buttons as he hungrily kissed the swells of your breasts, yanking the straps down and pulling the entire thing to your waist. He covered your breasts with his hands, kneading them, the dragging his thumbs across the stiff peaks.

He covered one pert nipple with his mouth, laving his tongue across it, while unfastening your bra and tossing it away. Capturing your nipple gently between his teeth, he flicked it with his tongue, then suckled you deeply, causing you to arch your back into his mouth and grind again into his cock.

"God, you are lovely, little one," he growled, looking up at you. His eyes travelled down your body again. "Look at you, in just your knickers and high heels, riding me like this. You're a naughty little girl, aren't you?"

"Yes," you breathed.

He chuckled darkly as you leaned over to slide your hands against his lean chest, grazing your teeth across his collarbone and scraping your nails down his torso. Your small hand found the prominent bulge in his pants, and you began to stroke it, using your entire body as leverage, sliding up and down his chest with each stroke.

He threw his head back, mouth slack as he let out a shaky moan. "Oh fuck...you should stop." he said while bucking his hips into your strokes. "You don't want to make me come in my pants do you?"

You leaned into him and whispered into his ear, "Yes." You let your pink tongue trace the curves of his ear, then dip inside. "That's exactly what I want. I want you to want me so badly, you can't help but come in your pants, Tom."

He moaned, but then bit his lip, and with his face strained and his neck veins exposed, quickly captured both your wrists in one large hand.

"If you doubt how badly I want you, little one, you haven't been paying attention. But tonight were going to do this my way," he growled. With his free hand, he pushed your lacy panties aside and slipped one long finger inside your dripping slit.

"Fucking hell, you are tight," he said. "I knew you would be."

He continued to fuck you with his finger, pressing against your swollen g-spot with each thrust.

Your hands were still held by his wrist. "Tell me now, can I have you anyway I want you?"

"Yes." he added another finger.

"And what do you want?"

"Your cock," you whimpered.

"Hmm.." he pretended to think it over, "I don't know. Do you think you can handle it? This pussy is so deliciously tight."

"I can handle it, Tom."

"Such an eager girl."

He let go of your wrists, "Open my trousers."

You obeyed.

"Pull out my cock."

You slipped your hand into his boxers and pulled them down, freeing his engorged cock. You began to stroke him.

He grabbed your wrists in a flash again. "Did I give you permission to do that?" he growled. He swatted your behind again.

"Rise up on your knees, little one."

You rose up unsteady, wrists still clasped in his hand.

"Kneel over my cock."

You slid you cunt over the tip of his cock, preparing to slide down on it. You bit your lip and closed your eyes, ready to take him in.

"Don't move!" he hissed.

Startled, you opened your eyes. He looked back at you darkly. "Listen very carefully, little one, and do exactly as I tell you, or I will not fuck you tonight. Do you understand?"

"Tom?"

"I said, do you understand?"

"Yes."

He let go of your wrists. "Touch yourself."

"Where?"

"You know where."

"How?"

"However you do when you're alone. I want to sit here and watch you come. Do it and then will I fuck you."

You cupped your breasts, and rolled your nipples between your thumb and forefinger, throwing your head back.

You slid one hand down to your sex and found your throbbing clit. Your cunt was so wet and swollen with need for this man. You slid a finger inside, then two and fucked yourself.

You heard him moan and saw he was watching you with rapt attention, holding his cock by the base so the tip was lined up almost touching your entrance.

You bit your lips and held his gaze. Your fingers found your slippery clit, and you began to work it rhythmically in that way that always brought you off. Your hand was slick with your fluid, and your brought your fingers up to Tom's mouth. He drew them in and cleaned them with his lips and tongue, groaning.

You pulled them out with a pop and he bucked his hips against your slit, teasing you with the tip of his cock.

"Come," he said.

Your hand found its way back to your clit, and you stroked it, lightly at first, then with more firmess. Tom continued to slide the tip of his cock past your labia, only to withdraw when you would moan for more.

Tom ran his free hand up your body, grasping at your breast and pinching your nipple. He slid his hand up the back of your neck and gripping a handful of hair, pulled your face down to his.

"If you want me to fuck you, you'd better come for me, you little whore."

You unraveled suddenly, with a loud cry, thighs shaking, bathing Tom's cock with sweet clear spurts of liquid.

Immediately, Tom thrust violently inside you, stretching you. He pumped into your hard and fast, bringing on a second orgasm fresh on the heels of the first one.

He grabbed your hips roughly, easily using your body to bring himself off, slamming against your g-spot, stretching out your second orgasm for what seemed like several minutes.

With one final thrust and jaw clenched, he poured into you, grunting and groaning loudly, muttering nonsense.

"Oh, fuck darling. Goddammit. Fuck. Oh, God!"

You lay there, slick with sweat. Both of you coming down from your shared high.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you, little one?"

"Not even a little bit," you replied.

He kissed the top of your head.

"Lovely. Because I'm not at all through with you yet."


End file.
